


Surprise

by icandrawamoth



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Co-workers, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Rogue One, Surprise Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: They step into the darkened break room attached to the lab. She flicks the light on, and Galen starts as the members of his team leap out from under tables and behind chairs. On the table is a small white cake and stack of flimsiplast plates.“Surprise!” comes the chorus of voices.





	Surprise

Today is no different from any other since Krennic dragged him to Eadu. Galen wakes, washes and dresses himself, and eats a protein bar alone in his quarters before walking across the refinery to his lab. A few of his scientists are already there preparing for the day's work. He answers waves and calls of good morning with a friendly smile. With the camaraderie they've eked out for themselves, you'd never know they were engineering a death machine.

The work is like any other day, too: namely, an endless series of misfires. Kyber crystals crack under the pressure of too much power. When they don't, relays meant to channel the power fail. It's tough going, and tensions are high. Galen grits his teeth and runs hands through disheveled gray hair. He can hear his team doing the same.

Most of him is relieved, of course; every hour the Death Star's completion is delayed is a good. Yet he is doing actual work, similar to what he's always studied, and even now it frustrates him when things don't work out as they should, when there are problems he can't solve.

“Dr. Erso?”

Galen looks up, blinking, from his microscope to see his second-in-command, a young woman named Raihn Gabbett, drafted into Advanced Weapons Research when the Empire took control of the planet she was studying on and desired her knowledge.

“You can call me Galen when Krennic isn't around,” he reminds her. “What is it?”

“Galen. It's time for lunch.”

He glances up at the chrono on the wall and sees that, in fact, it's far past. Though it's not unusual for him to work right through his hunger pangs until someone drags him away from his work. That used to be Lyra...

Raihn tugs his arm gently. “Come on. We have something for you.”

“Something for me?” Galen repeats, confused. He sees as she leads him away that the rest of the lab has emptied without him noticing.

Raihn nods, a grin spreading onto her face, and a moment later they step into the darkened break room attached to the lab. She flicks the light on, and Galen starts as the members of his team leap out from under tables and behind chairs. On the table is a small white cake and stack of flimsiplast plates.

“Surprise!” comes the chorus of voices.

Galen blinks, and Raihn nudges him. “Surely you didn't forget it's your name-day.”

Surely he had. Galen has so very many more important things on his mind.

But he smiles, unexpected emotion welling in his chest at the happy faces around him. Someone here had cared enough about him to find out this date and plan this little celebration. It makes his heart clench, the feeling of this little family they've made, the way they look after and appreciate each other.

Most of them are in the same situation as him, tied without choice to a project they despise. Krennic is keeping tabs on (read: threatening) Zech Taa's mother. Tarash and Pog Moryne's young daughter is being held in an Imperial Academy, her success and safety reliant on their compliance. Arenya Atam chose this job rather than be executed for treason in attempting to aid the rebels, her intelligence deemed more valuable than the example her death might set. And so on.

And yet they step away from their jobs, the thing keeping themselves and their families safe, and take this moment to celebrate him. Galen gives the room a shaky smile, drying his eyes on his sleeve. He tries to keep his voice even as he tells them, “Thank you. I don't know what to say.”

Raihn squeezes his arm and tries to brighten the mood. “Tell us you'll eat some cake! Pog made it special. Stole the sweetener from the commissary and everything.” Pog beams.

Galen frowns as he lets Raihn push him into a chair and serve him a slice. “You shouldn't have bothered. I don't want you getting into trouble on my account.”

Pog flaps a hand nonchalantly. “I was never in any real danger of getting caught.”

His husband rolls his eyes. “I don't know why he doesn't just use those superior sneaking skills to get out of here.”

They all know why he doesn't; no one has to mention that little Rissy is depending on him.

It's done, so Galen lets it drop, taking a bite of the cake. For a long moment, he revels in the simple pleasure of sweet confection melting on his tongue. “It's amazing, Pog,” he says when he's swallowed. “I think you missed your calling.”

Pog shrugs with a grin. “Pity.”

“There's enough for everyone,” Raihn sings, beginning to hand around the plates. The room soon breaks down into individual conversations, attention turning away from Galen. When everyone has been served, Raihn sits down beside him. “You know, Dr. Erso,” she says, “you need to sit down once in awhile and enjoy the little things. Even here.”

“I do, Raihn. I really do.” He smiles at her, small but genuine and warm. “Just being with the lot of you makes this more bearable every day. And a break in the monotony is certainly welcome.”

“You brought us together,” she tells him earnestly. “Our own little family despite everything Krennic did to us. We're going to figure this out. You are. I know it.” He senses the double meaning in her words, but neither dares speak it aloud.

“To figuring it out,” Galen says, holding a forkful of cake in the air. Raihn laughs and clinks her own against it.

For just a while, there is happiness.


End file.
